Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Okay, okay, little man. Give me a second here,” he says as he drags the spoon across Milo’s chin and moves it back to his mouth. The little guy’s eyes are wide as he eats, his arms and legs both pumping with excitement.
I grab my phone from my back pocket and snap a few pictures of this moment. Colton laughs as he tries to drag the food off Milo’s chin, but the second it’s clean, more oozes from the baby’s mouth.
Then Milo opens his mouth and blows.
And green slime sprays all over Colton.
My eyes are wide as a bubble of laughter spills from my lips. I try to cover it with a cough, but Colton looks my way, totally busting me on my laughter. He looks equally shocked at his son and my reaction to it. “You think this is funny?” The quiver in his lips tells me he agrees.
With my phone camera in hand, I nod and snap another picture.
Colton turns and looks at his son. “You just sprayed me with green shit, and the pretty girl is laughing about it,” he says. My heartbeat jumps at his comment, and even though he doesn’t elaborate anymore, I’ll never forget the way he said I was pretty. That touch of midwestern accent, his tone all deep and husky. It does inappropriate things to my lady bits.
Milo reaches for the food, so Colton shovels a few more bites in his mouth. I grab the paper towels off the counter and hand him a few. Between feeding his son bites, he wipes at his face and blots at his T-shirt. “You might as well eat,” he says, pointing to the containers of food.
Feeling relaxed, I go ahead and help myself to a chicken drumstick and a small pile of mashed potatoes and gravy. I join them at the table, staying as far away from Milo as possible. There’s not much time for chitchat, as Colton spends a big part of his time focusing on feeding his son. When he makes it about halfway through the container, Milo appears to be done, refusing to open his mouth for another bite. Colton jumps up and grabs a warm washcloth and goes to town on clearing the food from his son’s face. Upon closer inspection, however, he finds that green slime… everywhere.
“He’s going to need a bath,” he says, almost dejectedly.
“He’ll get better at eating,” I reassure him.
“But will I get better at feeding him, so he’s not wearing half of his dinner?”
I smile over at him. “Yes, you’ll get better too.”
Colton sighs. “Well, I better grab a bite to eat quickly and then throw him in the bath. Sorry I’m not very good company,” he says as he fills a plate with food.
“You’re fine,” I state, finishing up my mashed potatoes and gravy. “Oh, I have a few pictures of dinner. Would you like me to send them to you?” I ask, retrieving my phone and pulling up my photo app. Leaning over, I hold up the phone, so Colton can see the pictures I snapped of him and Milo. He leans in as well, smiling at the phone display. I catch another whiff of his woodsy, earthy scent mixed with green beans and pull back a little so I don’t do something silly like lick his neck.
“Yeah, I’d love for you to send me those. I’ll forward them to my mom and Gabby,” he says with a smile.
We chat a little while he eats, mostly about Milo’s doctor’s appointment. Apparently, he’s notorious for peeing the moment his diaper is removed, and today was no different. The moment the doctor pulled it open to check him out, Milo let a steady stream of pee fly, barely missing the good doctor’s chest.
Milo starts to fuss. “It’s getting close to his bedtime. I should get him cleaned up,” Colton says as he stands up and takes his plate to the trash.
“Go ahead. I’ll put the food away and head back to my side of the wall,” I tell him, already standing up and moving.
“Oh. Okay.”
There’s something in the way he says those words. It’s as if he’s slightly… dejected that I’m leaving.
Or maybe it’s just me and my wishful thinking.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed,” he says, taking Milo out of the high chair.
When I turn, I spy a glob of green goo on Milo’s pants that smears all over Colton’s shirt and have to fight my grin. I’m sure Colton wouldn’t appreciate me laughing again at his mess. “Thank you for dinner,” I tell him, reaching over and shaking Milo’s little fist. “Goodnight, Mr. Milo. Sweet dreams.”
Colton is standing directly in front of me, his gaze burning into me. I feel it so strongly, and when I glance up and my hand brushes against his arm, an electric current charges through my blood. I pull back quickly and move to finish cleaning up the food mess.